Friday, August 19, 2011

Yes, I encountered one, in Nashville, about a week ago. A doe so big, I thought she was a buck until I got close enough to note the lack of antlers.

I was riding back from the motel my brother and his family had procured last Thursday night -- actually, Friday morning, about 1 a.m. local time -- on Cabot Drive. I was about 600 yards from Annex Avenue where I saw her. I slowed considerably, and after sauntering across the road, she stood motionless in someone's front yard as I passed. My bigger concern was that she would get spooked, and either jump on me or directly in my path, but she didn't really get spooked until after I passed her.

What's so odd is this section of Cabot Drive is about 40 yards from Interstate 40, and about 200 yards from the Cumberland River, two boundaries that would seem to make it an unlikely hangout for a deer.
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Sunday, August 7, 2011

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Vee Rubber VRM-224. Thai. Looks softer, grippier than the OEM Kendas I have used up until now... which means it'll be replaced sooner. Hey, you gotta try stuff on sale, especially when the mechanic says you should.

Thanks again to Rooster, who volunteered his time to do the tire change, and to ESS for being the best scooter shop in Nashville.
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Tuesday, August 2, 2011

So, yeah. I ordered a Vee Rubber 140/70-16 for Bad Penny from Scooterworks last week (or at least I hope I did... I left a voicemail for Adam on Friday, but didn't hear back from him). The tread was getting thin, KymcoUSA is being a syphilitic goat's penis, so I didn't want to re-order the stock Kenda, and everything else seemed more expensive than what I wanted to try.

That said, I wanted beer last night, as I often do every time my former political party loses its ever-loving mind and doesn't let the National Lampoon editors go ahead and shoot the fucking dog on national TV. So, I hop on Bad Pen', and off I go. Oh, there's someone backing out of a space around the corner. Boy are they slow. Hey, is my tire low? Feels like it.

Two miles from home, it's obvious there is zero above atmospheric pressure in that tire. I end up walking the bike while it is running, giving it just enough throttle to make it semi-self-propelled (while I jog to keep up), as sitting on it is going to further ruin what's left of the tire, and cause some serious control issues, as well. Just another mile to the Shell station, where I will have the privilege of paying a dollar for use of the air compressor.

Which seems like a deal, if it keeps me from walk-running this beast back home another three miles... but the tire has broken bead, so I am cursing. And pounding. And cajoling. Finally, I hear the *pop!* *pop!* that lets me know the bead has been re-established, and I put a whole lot of air in that puppy.